


blood bank

by starkravingcap



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 17:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkravingcap/pseuds/starkravingcap
Summary: The ground is wet and muddy under her shoes, her feet slipping with every pounding step she takes toward the Veterans Center. With the rain pelting her face, she can only make out the blurred outline of the wrought-iron fence. She’s maybe a hundred yards away, but with the way her legs are starting to ache it may as well be a thousand.Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.





	blood bank

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr prompt: "I came as soon as I heard!"

Rook’s lungs are burning.

The ground is wet and muddy under her shoes, her feet slipping with every pounding step she takes toward the Veterans Center. With the rain pelting her face, she can only make out the blurred outline of the wrought-iron fence. She’s maybe a hundred yards away, but with the way her legs are starting to ache it may as well be a thousand.

_Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. _

Before she knows it, she’s skittering inside the gate, trading mud for asphalt beneath her feet. Somewhere to her right, a newly made Judge howls, and anxiety pricks at the back of her mind.

There are people everywhere. The Center busy on the best of days – plenty of culling to do, after all – but right now Rook can’t go more than a couple feet without spotting one of Jacob’s Chosen. She weaves and dodges, pushing past them all until she’s just outside the main door. Nicholas is waiting for her.

Rook likes most of Jacob’s Chosen, and Nicholas is no exception — he is young and kind and desperately searching for someone or something to save him. A hell of a shot, too, though that’s not really a deal breaker for her either way.

She grabs him by the shoulders tightly, sucking in harsh breaths. Her head swims, and for a second, Rook is afraid she might pass out.

“I came as soon as I heard,” she gasps out. Sweat gathers in the hollow of her throat. “Tell me he’s okay.”

“He’s alright,” Nicholas says. The corner of his lip quirks in a half-smile. “He’s fighting with the doctor in the infirmary.”

Every part of Rook’s body seems to go slack as relief stutters through her. She lets go of Nicholas and covers her face with the palms of her hands.

“Fuck,” she says on a shaky exhale. “Oh, Jesus. Okay.”

Her hands fall limply to her sides. Nicholas reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. For a second, Rook wonders what she must look like: wet, muddy, heaving in air like she’ll never have oxygen again.

“Thank you,” she says after a few seconds pass in silence. “Thanks. Thank you for calling me.”

“Of course,” Nicholas says, sounding for all intents and purposes like she’s just thanked him for simply being alive.

Rook nods at him, turns on a muddy heel, and heads for the infirmary.

* * *

The infirmary is busy, a dizzying array of people moving in and out and around to in order to make beds, clean equipment, and help care for the sick or wounded. Rook finds she’s not particularly surprised to see Jacob arguing with the doctor next to one of the cots in the corner.

"I’m fine,” Jacob grits out at her, looking not fine at all in a torn shirt that’s covered in blood. The cot next to him is spattered in red, and a bloody towel lies forgotten on the floor.

Rook’s chest hurts with the sudden mix of relief and terror that fills it. He’s alive, but she has no idea what happened, how it happened, if it’ll happen again. Her footsteps feel miles apart as she approaches them, and Jacob’s head finally turns when he realizes she’s there. He frowns.

“What happened to you?”

The rain has plastered her hair to her forehead, wet and dripping tiny rivulets into her eyes. The cuffs of her jeans are caked in mud from her running. She’s still trying to catch her breath.

Rook can’t be bothered to muster up a sarcastic response. Instead, she takes a couple steps toward Jacob until they’re almost touching, then wraps her arms around him tight.

“Jesus. Are you alright?” Rook asks, burying her head in the side of Jacob’s neck.

“Don’t _you_ start,” he says irritably, though the hand he brings up to rest on her back betrays him. “I’m fine.”

Someone clears their throat – the doctor making her presence known, Rook thinks – and reluctantly, she lets Jacob go. She presses her lips not-so-subtly to the column of his throat as she does, content with the knowledge that he’ll give her hell for it later.

“He’s not _fine_,” the doctor says once they part, eyeing the bloodstains on his shirt and the cot. “He was stabbed.”

“Barely,” Jacob scowls.

Rook’s eyes drift to the gauze patch taped on his middle. She can see a dark spot forming in the middle, blood seeping through like spilled wine.

“_Enough_,” the doctor counters, and Rook decides then and there that the two of them are going to be very good friends. “You should be resting, not arguing with every person who dares to show you a sliver of concern.”

Before Jacob can get a word in edgewise, Rook stares at the doctor with a look she hopes isn’t too desperate. She can feel Jacob’s gaze on the side of her face.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” she says, as genuine as possible. “Could you give us a minute?”

Something like amusement dances across the doctor’s face, but she nods gently, turning on her heel and leaving the room. Once Rook’s sure she’s out of earshot, she exhales heavily, her poor heart still thudding nervously in her chest.

"Why did you come all the way out here?”

Rook whirls on him, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her chest.

“I was told you were hurt,” she says, suddenly exhausted. The running is finally starting to catch up to her. “Is it really that hard to believe that there are people that actually care about you?”

He doesn’t say anything. For a while, Jacob just stares at her, expression blank, features giving her _no _clue as to what he’s thinking. Eventually, he steps closer to her and pushes the wet hair from her eyes. The tips of his fingers linger on the side of her face, warm against her damp skin.

“I’m fine,” he says, this time less of an argument and more of a reassurance. His hand trails down and settles on her shoulder. “I am.”

If they weren’t in public, Rook would kiss him. As it is, there are sick and injured people all around them, and she’s pretty sure the doctor is hiding just far enough away that they can’t see her. Instead, she reaches up and squeezes the wrist of the hand he’s got on her shoulder.

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume that it’s too much to ask you to rest for once in your life?”

Jacob lets his hand fall back to his side, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Good instinct.”

The panic is finally starting to dissipate, just a little. She can still feel it in the tips of her fingers, taste it in the back of her throat, but her chest is no longer tight and achy. Rook looks down at the gauze on his side and sighs.

“Come to bed early, then,” she asks. She reaches out and fingers the tattered hem of his shirt. “Please. Just tonight. Okay?”

Jacob stares at her a little longer before he finally, mercifully relents.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what this is!!!
> 
> follow me on [ tumblr](https://softseeds.tumblr.com/) for more nonsense, and maybe even request a thing!


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